Laws are Made to be Broken
by ttzdrkpl
Summary: The wizarding world wasn't just hiding from the muggles. What happens when it is revealed to those who see its practices as an abomination? (Now abandoned. I will not be rewriting this later.)
1. Chapter 1

I claim no ownership of any recognized characters, places, organizations, concepts... nouns. I write this for my own amusement and with no intention to make any profit or in any way set myself at odds with the owners of any intellectual property.

Harry Potter appeared in the opulent living room without a sound, his black robes held still and silent by some unseen force. His own holly wand was held ready to unleash curses the likes of which mortals were never meant to know. But the Department of Mysteries and, by extension, their head, Harry, did.

He had been with the department for eight years: five as an active member with three as a test subject preceding that. The department had recruited (abducted) Harry shortly after the final battle with Voldemort. And kept him for study regarding his position as Master of Death. While pursuing that set of testing, they had discovered that he had also been a living horcrux, and that basilisk venom and phoenix tears flowed through his veins. After three years of their poking and prodding, he was to be obliviated and released. He refused. For five years he had served under Todd Isaac Croaker before replacing him just this year.

A quick sweep revealed that the room was empty, and so Harry turned to his kitchen to fix dinner before Padma arrived. Her work for the Committee on Experimental Charms did not allow as flexible of hours as Harry assigned himself. Harry had only just retrieved the rice from a cupboard and begun to boil some water when an insistent banging on the door interrupted him. In the space of a second, his holly wand had again taken up residence in his hand and was aimed toward the door. "Identify yourself." There was a brief wait before, "By the authority of the White Council you, Harry James Potter, are under arrest for 53 counts of killing with magic, three hundred and sixty five counts of transforming others, 83 counts of enthralling others, 21658 counts of invading the minds of others, 8 counts of reaching beyond the boundaries of life, 14 counts of swimming against the currents of time, and 17 counts of seeking beyond the outer gates. Will you act in compliance with the orders of the White Council? Harry stood, nonplussed, for a moment, before responding, "By my authority as head of the Department of Mysteries, you are under arrest for hindering an unspeakable. Will you comply?" He could hear a sigh fro the other side of the door, preceding "Felix, open the door." Harry smirked as a roiling ball of fire tore through the door. The wards triggered, incinerating the attacker and a few of his nearby friends. Only one of the assailants, who had stood aside in preparation to storm the door, remained, a look of horror on his face. Before the survivor could release the chilling scream that Harry knew came form the newbies of any outfit, Harry dug deep into his spell repertoire and cast a hex he hadn't used in years, "petreficus totalus." Another flick of his wand brought the frozen man to lock eyes with him. Harry felt the renewed struggle of the man against the charm and applied more magic as he pushed into his captive's mind.

Images flew past at incredible speed, mostly accompanied by their complementary audio. This man had an organized mind. Harry swam through the memories until he found one that interested him.

"_Morgan," the young woman spoke (Captain Luccio, the man's mind supplied), "Take the bulk of the wardens to this 'Ministry of Magic' and seize it. I'll take a force to the school, Hogwarts. Roberts," here the view in the memory straightened. So his prisoner was "Roberts." "Take a small squad and capture Potter"_

Harry jolted back to his body, a look of rage in his eyes. After scribbling a message in the air to Padma and tossing a quick _Avada Kedavra_ at Roberts, he spun on his he and reappeared in his office.


	2. Chapter 2

I claim no ownership of any recognized characters, places, organizations, concepts... nouns. I write this for my own amusement and with no intention to make any profit or in any way set myself at odds with the owners of any intellectual property.

As was his way, Harry arrived with his wand at the ready. This time, however, it was apparently warranted. Aurors, Unspeakables, and even a few regular ministry employees battled with more of the sword wielding wizards and . . . some muggles with guns? Harry's wand batted aside an electric bolt aimed toward him and, with another flick of his wand, sent the thrower careening through the veil. Looking around him, Harry could see heavy losses accumulating on both sides already.

Now, it is important to realize that Harry Potter was not the young, shy, kind boy he had been when he defeated Voldemort. The Department of Mysteries had tainted him, and by the time he could have escaped, he didn't want to. It had turned him into a survivalist, no matter the expense to others. Even this new Harry Potter, however, could recognize a battle that should not be fought.

Activating a _sonarus_ tied to the wards of the department, Harry spoke, "Cease this fighting at once! Let us negotiate!" Amazingly, they did. Admittedly, Harry had laced his voice with copious amounts of magic which, amplified by the wards, could stun unsuspecting individuals. Now he had to capitalize on the opportunity presented. "We have never instigated aggression with this 'White Council.' There must be some misunderstanding." Harry waited for an obvious leader to appear in the crowd. He didn't wait long before an elderly man near the rear of the opposing force responded, "Numerous members of your civilization have broken the Laws of Magic. The White Council has determined that it is in the best interest of your future generations that it intervenes." Harry recalled the laws that the group at his home had mentioned, "The laws: What are they?" There was a scattered murmuring among the wizards of the White Council. Did they expect him to know their laws? The older man answered, "There are seven Laws of Magic. 'Thou shalt not kill by use of magic. Thou shalt not transform others. Thou shalt not invade the mind of another. Thou shalt not enthrall another. Thou shalt not reach beyond the borders of life. Thou shalt not swim against the currents of time. Thou shalt not seek beyond the Outer Gates.'"

Silence hung in the room as the British wizard contemplated this revelation. Killing was killing, and most of those who had done it could plead self-defense. Transforming others, though, that encompassed most basic first-year hexes. The Unspeakables all had trouble with the third law. Their job required constant passive legilimency. Auror trainers and Unspeakables had all cast the _imperius_ at some point, to ensure new members could resist it. It was the last three, however, that caught the Unspeakables' attention most. It was their job to find more efficient ways of doing such things, after all.

Finally, Scrimgeour took over on behalf of the ministry. "I believe there has been a misunderstanding here. "We have a perfectly functioning system of laws. I'm sure that-" "The Council will accept your surrender on the condition that all of your citizens who have broken laws are submitted for trial." The man, who had been addressed as Morgan in the memory, cut the minister off in mid-sentence. "Those are the only acceptable condi-" "Absolutely not," interrupted Hermione Granger, currently of the Experimental Charms Committee. It would be akin to us imposing our laws upon the muggle world!" The warden shook his head. "It is not up for discussion. Will not any more of you surrender?"

A wave of purple fire from an Auror was plenty answer.


	3. Chapter 3

It would have been known as the day the ministry fell, had anyone remaining cared to acknowledge the validity of the deposed government. The aurors, unspeakables, and other assorted ministry employees had put on a good fight, but they were not the organized fighting force that the White Council possessed. The aurors had proven their incompetence in the fight against Voldemort years previous, and had only grown more complacent since then. The majority of the wizarding public had no cause to practice combat spells, and so the vast array of ministry employees had been very little help. Even the unspeakables, for all their vast knowledge of magic were seldom trained for combat.

But still, they had fought, with everything they were. For almost an hour, the opposing groups of those who commanded reality itself had fought in a battle that had torn the ministry building asunder. Dozens of the attackers had died by various means, twenty-seven falling to Harry's holly wand alone. Hundreds of defenders had fallen.

Percy had been gunned down by muggles, trying to defend the minister.

Hermione's assailant had finished what Dolohov's curse failed in all those years ago, eviscerating her with his sword.

Padma had been hit with some semblance of an aging curse by a man toting a black staff devoid of the sigils his allies favored, reducing her to dust.

Carmichael, now an auror was killed by a stray incineration curse from his own side.

Arthur Weasley was crushed by part of the ceiling shaken loose by enemy geomancy.

Harry could take no more. In a breath, his holly wand had been exchanged for its brother, far better suited for darker curses. Harry had reached into his dark well of power, gifted to him by Voldemort on the night of their first confrontation and augmented for the past eight years by his work in the department. Drawing in his rage and pain, Harry had cast the spell that ended the battle. "_Fiendfyre_!"

The ministry had been utterly destroyed, and the wizards of both sides had fled the cursed blaze. The White Council had persisted, and soon most remaining wizards were accounted for. Harry Potter was not.

Harry Potter stormed into the makeshift infirmary, past beds full of moaning patients and towards his chief healer, "Fluer!"

The French witch huffed at his tone before turning to face him, " 'Arry? Terry will awaken tomorrow. You will 'ave to wait until zen."

Harry seemed less than pleased with that arrangement, "We can't wait until tomorrow. He was looking for Mai, and his pendant indicated he completed his mission!" Harry thrust a pendant consisting of a phoenix within a ring of stones into her face. Indeed, the stone corresponding to Terry Boot's pendant was flashing between white, purple, and green. In base, injured, mission accomplished. "This is the chance we've been waiting for. I can start to get our revenge, Fluer, for Padma, for Hermione, for Bill," his face was set into a cold mask, his eyes gleaming, "I just need Terry to wake up."

Fluer closed her eyes for a moment before nodding and turning to Terry, still covered in horrific burns, "Enervate."

The poor man's eyes shot open, and that was all Harry needed. He dove into Terry's mind and found what he was looking for. Ancient Mai, a member of the group that ruined everything, owned a restaurant in Chicago. With Terry still screaming until Fluer stunned him, Harry let the hood of his cloak complete his invisibility, grasped the Elder Wand, and left with a whisper of displaced air.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry appeared unnoticed in alley next to (presumably) Mai's restaurant. A quick legilimency scan of a passer-by revealed that it was, indeed, the area Terry's mind had revealed. Harry drew a piece of his magic up into his eyes, piercing the side of the building with his gaze, a bathroom. Tracing a circle on the side of the building with his wand, Harry blinked his eyes clear before stepping through the temporarily intangible piece of masonry. Inside a stall, Harry stowed his cloak and transfigured his robes into a muggle suit, charming his face with a notice-me-not spell.

Harry stepped out of the bathroom and into an oriental-style restaurant, eyes searching for his intended victim. There! She sat on a balcony above the crowd, an empress observing her people. Harry found a set of stairs and began up them, all the while contemplating how he would pass the guards at the top without alerting the powerful woman of his presence. Since the fall of the ministry, Harry's band of fighters had learned that these wizards could draw magic from their surroundings and were thus able to put more energy into a fight than the average wand-waver. Some, like Harry, had enough power to be exceptions to this rule, but Mai was a part of the senior council, and Harry wanted every advantage he could get.

"_Vyadhyati_." Harry's wand tip lit with a deep blue orb, which he promptly tossed up the stairs. The men never had a chance to exclaim as their blood was torn through their skin and absorbed by the glowing ball. The spell, used originally for harvesting blood for potions, dropped the frozen block of blood to the floor as it dissipated, the thump matching those of the now-dead guards falling. Harry stepped over their bodies toward the door leading to the balcony. He glamored one of the guard's faces over his own and re-transfigured his clothing to match before opening the door.

Mai, as it turned out, had a guest. An unusually tall wizard with an unhealthy western obsession had been arguing with the senior council member before Harry's entrance stopped them. Mai looked at him expectantly.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" The sound of rushing wind filled the room as the green light streaked forth. The man with Mai raised his arm and projected a domed field about himself. Had he been the target, he would have died. Mai, unfortunately, took a different route. Her foot slammed into the ground with more magic than force, tearing the floor into a wall of wood in front of her with which the curse promptly collided and ignited. Harry was wasting no time, however.

"_Weerlig_!" With a deafening sound, lightning spilled forth from his wand, crackling and arcing out in front of him. It impacted the man's shield, which held, while Mai demonstrated surprising speed as she was surrounded by a shield of her own.

"_Fuego_!" This time, Harry was forced to defend himself with a flame-freezing charm cast upon his person. Hopefully fire was the extent of that man's repertoire.

Mai kept Harry on the defensive by hurling an arc of electricity at him. Only to have it absorbed by a recently-animated terra cotta warrior.

Turning his defense into an offense, Harry commanded his makeshift golem forward while layering protective spells over it to ward against spells and physical trauma.

While Mai attempted to bring down the golem, Harry was forced to turn his attention to the man following the cry, "_Ventas Servitas_!" The still air stirred and only Harry's own opposing wind spell kept him from being hurled off the balcony, if only just. This man was strong.

As he retaliated with a "_sectumsempra_," opening a surprisingly shallow gash in the man's chest, Harry hazarded a peek at his golem.

It was fortunate that he did, as Mai, now sporting a broken arm, stomped again, forcing Harry to roll to avoid the spikes that attempted to impale him. One penetrated into his calf anyway, and the wound was exacerbated as his roll tore it out. The man appeared to be reaching for a gun. By Harry's estimation, the muggle authorities were also set to arrive soon. They hadn't exactly been subtle.

With time running out and his opponents recovering from his initial advantage, Harry was again forced to reach into his pile of forbidden curses.

"_Nula_!" A window into an inky black nothing was torn open in front of him in time to intercept the man's bullets and Mai's spear of ice. A twist of his forced the window to lengthen and narrow into a line several meters long. With a swish, Harry propelled it towards the enemy, forcing Mai and the man to jump and dive, respectively. The line continued on into the balcony's support structure, and through it. The platform pitched to one side and fell, taking the combatants with it.

Harry turned on his heel, wincing as his leg almost gave out, and apparated to the floor safely. Mai and the man had no such talents, and did their best to shield themselves from the rubble. While the dust cleared, Harry donned his invisibility cloak and prepared one of his more difficult spells.

"_Anapospasto_," he muttered. He felt his form blur, creating a string of ethereal Harry's with him, each half a second behind the other.

"_Asfh._" The spell sounded in an odd echo as ten voices cast out-of-sync. Wind billowed out in every direction strong enough to lift the tables bolted to the floor. With a crack and a crash, the previously invisible Mai was thrown into a wall, while the man was propelled through the front window and into the street.

Harry turned to finish Mai, the tip of his wand glowing green, only to come up facing a green burst of light. Harry dove to the side, the beam catching only his left arm in it. The spell began immediately eating away at the flesh on his arm, reducing his hand to bone in the seconds it took him to cast a stasis charm and stop the spread.

Mai's face took on a serenity born of accepting the inevitable as Harry turned his wand back towards her, "_Avada_-" Mai's lips curled into a smile, "_Die._"

Harry's senses were filled with the perception of something ancient and powerful gathering towards Mai. Time slowed as he realized that this was the end. He would die.

As Mai's eyes fell closed, the force that had built of within her releases. Harry felt the force of a metaphysical freight train coming toward him, powered by all the magic Mai could channel with her dying breath.

As it neared him, Harry felt another presence, dwarfing the first, rise up within him. Its potency was so strong that it reached beyond his magical senses, filling his nostrils with the scent of rot, his ears with the breaths and screams of the dying, and his eyes with the bodies of the dead. An eternity of death flashed before him in an instant, and swallowed Mai's final curse entirely before vanishing as if it had never existed.

Harry took a breath and stood shakily, only then realizing he had fallen to his knees. He didn't bother to survey the wreckage around him before activating his emergency portkey. He lost consciousness in the swirling vortex of travel.


	5. Chapter 5

Fluer Weasley hated being a healer. Her personality was that of a fighter, an assassin, a spy, a tactician. Anything but a healer. Unfortunately, Harry had discovered that she had an aptitude for healing, and ordered her to do so. One did not disobey Harry Potter, not now, not when he was the only one left. With Dumbledore and (she shuddered to think) Voldemort dead, Harry was the only wizard in Britain, possibly the world, with the power to stand against the White Council.

As Fluer ran her wand over Terry again, checking that the potions were still active, an alarm chimed to signal an incoming portkey. It was Harry.

The last hope for the revenge of the wizarding world fell into the hospital bed designated for him, a bed which had never before seen any use. After all, he was Harry Potter, what force in the universe could touch him?

Apparently, Ancient Mai was perfectly capable of doing so, as Harry was unconscious, bleeding, bruised, and missing the flesh from his left arm.

A flurry of diagnostic charms revealed the nature of Harry's injuries, and Fluer went to work, casting a messanger spell as she did so with the potions she would need. One of her assistants would retrieve them.

* * *

Harry awoke two days later, realized he was in a hospital bed, and immediately took stock of his various body parts.

Feet? Good.

Legs? Good.

Abdomen? Good.

Torso? Good.

Arms? Shit.

Harry had no left arm to speak of.

* * *

Fluer was jolted awake as the wards she'd put over Harry alerted her of his consciousness, and so she went to check on him. The majority of his injuries had been minor, and well within her ability to repair. His arm, on the other hand, had to be removed. Harry gained a panicked look about him when she said that, so she hastened to assure him that the arm was almost rebuilt by their healers, and would be back with him within the hour.

* * *

Harry, toting his recently repaired arm, slipped into his personal tent, drawing his wand as he went. With a sweeping gesture, books, a bed, and clothing were thrown to the sides of the tent, leaving a clear space in the middle. A few additional circular motions conjured rings of iron, salt, and silver and set them into the dirt on the ground. He closed his eyes and drew up his magic.

"_Ipos."_

"_Ipos!"_

"_IPOS!"_

The earth within the circle strained and bubbled before exploding in a contained shower of lava. The molten rock congregated, before forming into and angel with a lion's head, baring its teeth at Harry.

"You dare to summon me, mortal?" it sneered, "Know you not who I am?" It finally looked at Harry, "Oh. It's _you_."

Harry smiled, "Yes, its _me_. Same deal as always. I don't stop the flow of sinners' souls to hell, you answer my question without my having to phrase it in legalese."

The demon nodded, "By the way, Cadmus is being tortured for eternity for his actions."

Harry shrugged, "Where can I find a wizard who can teach me their ways?"

The Earl of Hell shuddered, "So many loopholes. The woman you want is Elaine Lillian Mallory. She currently resides within the Summer side of the Nevernever."

With a wave of his wand, Harry banished the demon back to Hell, vanished the rings, and sat to think on his bed.


End file.
